


Good morning

by switchmeon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Dominance, Edging, F/M, Oral Sex, Spanking, Submission, Teasing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-03 12:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchmeon/pseuds/switchmeon
Summary: "How was your week? Were you a good girl?”She nodded. “I haven’t touched myself once.”“Just as I asked, well done. Neither have I.” He rolled over and kissed her, softly, gently. “You must rather want it now.”





	Good morning

John gave his wife a squeeze as she slowly woke up in his arms. “Good morning beautiful,” he whispered.

“Mmm, good morning sweetheart. Welcome home,” Amy murmured sleepily. He had arrived home late last night, delayed by stormy weather at the airport. Waiting up for him curled up naked in bed with a book, she must have dozed off. She had a vague memory of momentary consciousness as he climbed in beside her sometime in the night. “How was your trip?”

“Well enough. How was your week? Were you a good girl?”

She nodded. “I haven’t touched myself once.”

“Just as I asked, well done. Neither have I.” He rolled over and kissed her, softly, gently. “You must rather want it now.”

She could feel, pressed against her thigh, his naked cock, and yes, she did want it. “Uh-huh,” she nodded as he held her gaze in his warm chestnut-brown eyes.

He kissed her again, slipping his hands underneath her and rolling them both until she lay on him, bare skin to skin. He kissed her hard as one arm pulled her tightly to him and his left hand held her neck, pressing her closer to his lips.

His right hand slid casually down her back to tenderly caress her bare bottom. Suddenly, Amy felt a sharp heat as he brought his palm down hard against her. She gasped. He pulled her head back down to continue at her lips and his hand resumed a light circular pattern upon her cheek.

Again he struck her, harder than she expected, and she loved it. A poorly-suppressed moan escaped her at the sensation. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he asked her quietly, slapping her again. She simply moaned as her legs parted around his hips. Revelling in her reactions, John continued.

Amy buried her head in his shoulder, whimpering and moaning softly. Eyes closed, she listened carefully for each sharp impact. Between hits, he ran his fingers over her reddening arse and she held her breath, anticipating. Her thighs tensed as he spanked her, tension between them growing, filling her with desire.

Sensing her muscles tightening, he stroked her lovingly from her lower back down over her stinging behind, and she relaxed again in his arms, submitting to the pain he gave her. He resumed his irregular rhythm, stroking and spanking. She moaned into his constant kisses and her hips ground impatiently into his. The movement on his cock stiffened it further than her naked, moaning body had already. Its heat pressed into her stomach and she relished the feeling of his obvious excitement.

He could feel the moist wetness of her vagina against his shaft and slid a hand behind and between her thighs. His fingers slipped with ease into the lips of her vulva, opened like a blooming rose. He let them linger briefly just inside her, wiggling the three fingertips teasingly as he withdrew them, tracing a wet line down her leg.

Gripping her thigh in that hand and with the other around her back holding the two of them together, he revolved them again, letting the sheets fall off them.

She looked up at his face, inches from hers. Her breathing was heavy with anticipation as his body, full weight on her, pinning her down, dominated her increasingly weak frame. Grabbing both of her wrists, John held them to the bed over her head as he kissed her again. His strength sending thrills through her, she kissed him back hungrily.

His lips wandered across her cheek, trailing lightly down her neck to her collarbone. She sighed, anticipation building all through her body. Just as quickly as he had begun, he turned, tracing back up towards her lips. “Ohhh…” she breathed quietly, looking into his eyes with longing. He smiled at her.

Kneeling over her, one hand still securing both of hers, he dragged his fingers from her vagina up and over her clitoris. It was too delicate to do anything but made Amy arch her hips up into the touch. He stroked back and forth through her glistening flesh, dipping occasionally a short inch into her. She watched, eyes swimming between his taunting hand and beautifully erect penis. “Do you want me, my gorgeous girl?”

He ran his hand upwards to cup her breast, thumb and finger massaging her nipple. “Oh yes…” she murmured, “yes…” His strong hands squeezed her taught bosom before he pulled away, holding her nipple until it slipped from between his fingertips and sprung back, smarting. She closed her eyes, moaning weakly, “I want you, John.”

He smiled at her, laid out on the sheets beneath him, arms still above her head. Her body was pleasingly curved, thighs still apart, open to him. Her perfect breasts rose and fell with her shallow breaths. She was serene, waiting for him.

He stepped off the bed, releasing her wrists. Confused, Amy opened her eyes to look at him. He was putting on a pair of pants left on a chair. Pulling them up, covering his cock, buttoning them, zipping them carefully. She sat up and stared at him agape.

“That’s all,” he told her calmly, “Breakfast?” He smiled, knowing even food meant nothing to her entranced mind in this moment.

She whimpered weakly, kneeling on the bed. Her knees were parted, one hand supporting her as she leaned towards him, the other hanging, lingering near her vagina.

“Oh? You want more?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Poor thing.”

John watched her for a moment. She was crestfallen and gazed at him longingly. He knew she was more than ready to be taken, she was wet and wanting, needing him. His cock throbbed at the thought. Six days untouched. She was everything he wanted right now, and he could have her at his leisure. Whatever, however he wanted. For as long as he desired.

“Well, girl. You’ll have to beg.”

She climbed immediately out of the bed, straight onto the floor before him. Kneeling at his feet, she looked up at him desperately. “Please give me more. Please, let me have you.”

He saw her hand cupping her vulva and raised one eyebrow at her, a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. She moved it immediately, putting both behind her back. “Please, Master,” she begged, kissing the bulge in his pants, “please let me take you.” She looked up into his eyes, needing him badly. “Please, let me suck you.”

Pleased with this idea, John nodded. She swiftly undid his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Admiring his erection up close, she licked her lips. She began on his balls, her lips grazing them delicately. His cock stood, swollen and solid, skin hot; she relished his arousal, kissing at first at the base of his erection. Her warm, wet tongue glided up to the tip, licking up his oozing wetness with glee. She circled his head, moistening it, before she took into her mouth.

Amy enjoyed the familiar taste of his cock as she sucked it. With her left hand, she carefully massaged his balls, and with her right she gripped his butt and pulled him closer. She felt his cock at the back of her throat and his fingers tangled in her hair and groaned. There was nothing like the sensation of serving him and knowing she was his completely. She swirled her tongue around his head as often as she could, steadily gaining speed. Her other hand she wrapped around his cock, moving it in time as her head bobbed up and down.

He felt the pleasure building. “Ohh…” John murmured, savouring the intense sensations of her tongue, her warmth, her hands, her gentle groans.

Without stopping, she gazed up at him, excited by his low moans. She wondered how close he was, when to stop.

“Keep going,” he told her. She obeyed, quickening her pace, giving him more. She soon felt the familiar pulsing through his cock and moments later his climax in her mouth. She drunk from him greedily until his fingers relaxed on the back of her head.

John looked down to see the girl at his feet, licking her lips and grinning at him happily. Her hands, releasing him, wandered again between her legs, hovering.

“Satisfied?” he asked her.

She paused a moment, then shook her head.

“You still want me, don’t you?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Well, I can’t fuck you now, can I?” he told her, “You’ll have to wait.” She nodded meekly.

He walked over to the armchair facing the bed. “Sit up on the bed, girl,” he instructed, settling himself casually in the chair.

She did so, perplexed, leaning back on the pillows.

“Go on, touch yourself,” he encouraged her, “amuse me.” Hesitantly, she began to rub her fingers lightly over her vulva, gasping. After waiting all week and teased so long that morning, even this touch was exquisite.

“Amy?”

Watching him intently, she paused.

“You may not orgasm, or stop.”

She gulped nervously, but assented, resuming a slow, light circle.

“You have twenty minutes.” Looking at the digital clock on her bedside, it was 8:11. “At 8:31, you may cum – with me inside you. But,” he warned her, “you may only climax at 8:31: that minute, or you will not today at all.”

“Uh-huh,” she responded. Twenty minutes. She could climax in less than a minute with ease. Twenty minutes?

John knew it was a challenge for her and but she did not protest. He regarded her carefully, her slow and delicate touch. Her self-control was not strong and she soon slipped a pair of fingers inside herself. “Oh, fuck,” she muttered, her hips pressing back into her hand. He could see she was already soaking wet.

Amy groaned again. It was good, to be finally stimulated, but fingers would never be enough. For now, however, she closed her eyes, murmuring obscenities under her breath.

She drew her fingers out and ran them up to her clitoris, circling it and relaxing into the bedding. Her movements hurriedly became faster, tighter circles, but she gasped after only a few moments, taking her hand away and clutching at her thigh.

“Don’t stop,” John reminded her. She glanced at him and then away, guiltily, and again slipped her fingers inside her vagina, moaning again as she tickled her g-spot. He checked the clock. 8:15, and she was on the edge already. He smiled. Sixteen minutes’ private entertainment remaining; sixteen minutes of agonising pleasure for her.

He was a delectable sight. As she swapped hands, three fingers this time, she looked over his lean body: the strong man who swept her off her feet; his muscular arms which held her close at night; his fingers now tenderly caressing his cock – no,  _hers_  – his wonderful body belonged to her.

“You’re staring,” he stated.

“You’re sexy.” She didn’t stop staring and returned to rubbing around her clitoris. It was far too sensitive. Her legs quickly tensed up and she halted again, fingers dipped once more into her saturated vagina.

“Two,” he counted.

Her breasts tingled strongly, begging for attention. With her free hand, she cupped one, squeezing it, easing the itching desire, playing with the perked-up nipple. His hand mimicked the action unconsciously on the head of his half-hard penis, she observed with glee. She had a wonderfully sensual audience to behold, which would only make her task harder. “Oh, fuck, please,” she purred as drew herself up to a third near-orgasmic moment, legs snapping shut as she tried to resist.

“Oh, come on,” he urged, “don’t stop now. Half way. Three more?”

She nodded, panting now. Keeping her right hand between her legs, her touch as light as she could manage, Amy sat up and knelt on the mattress. Eyeing his erection, she moaned for him. He was stroking it leisurely as he watched her exhibition.

“Beautiful, sexy woman. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” she stammered, trying with difficulty to find words, her mind gone. “I want to fuck you – ride you. I want your hard cock. I want you to take me. John, I want – ohh!” she cried out as she plunged her fingers back into herself, far too close to climax. “I want to cum! Oh, please…” she panted.

“Not yet,” he chuckled, “You’ve waited a week, you can wait seven minutes longer.”

She was almost beginning to doubt him on that. She would not give in though: soon, soon, she would be able to fuck him, and oh how she wanted that. Her mind was barely able to focus and she looked only on him. This time, only a few seconds on her clitoris and the pleasure was almost painful. It was a blissful torture, held in waiting, mind gone completely, so close, and in absolute ecstasy.

“Hmm, let’s make this a little easier for you. Use only your left hand.” John was almost drooling, watching his wife’s erotic display, hearing her desperate moans and gasps. She struggled this time, unco-ordinated with her left hand at the best of times. She began to get closer though as he studied her, her breasts jiggling with her staccato movements and her butt rising off the bed. He considered extending the time, making her wait even longer, but he wanted her too badly to be so patient. 8:29. He stood up and walked over to recline on the bed next to her, head held up by the pillows and cock standing of its own accord.

Thrown for a moment by his approach, she looked at the clock. He was allowing her to take him at last. As soon as she realised, she turned and threw her leg over his body, taking hold of his erection and bringing it to her vagina, other hand still diligently circling over her vulva. Sinking down at last onto him, she sighed, finally filled.

She squeezed his cock, reminding John how close to orgasm he had become as he masturbated to her performance. Her body on him after their time apart was the most fantastic sight, and sensation, as he was encompassed and gripped inside her. He placed his hands lovingly on her hips, his eyes as affectionately on her breasts. He looked at the clock again, prompting her to do so also. 8:30. She stuck her tongue out slightly, carefully stimulating her clitoris, bringing herself up to the edge one last time. 8:31.

“Go on, Amy. Cum for me,” John growled.

Finally allowed to find release, she rode him energetically. Her fingers brought her swiftly over the edge and she cried out, “Oh! Oh yes… Oh, John – please, ohh, fuck…”

He could feel her orgasm, her pulsing around his cock, and the vision of her face relaxed in elation, mouth open, eyes closed, panting and whispering his name, was joyous.

Amy could feel the warm, flowing heat of her orgasm spreading through her limbs, finally relaxing her. She panted, spent now, and lay down on his chest, their skin searing, almost too hot.

He didn’t release her or take himself out as he rolled them over again. Now on top of her, he thrust quickly, impatiently. Eyes half closed, her head tipped back as she moaned quietly. Her hands held weakly onto his back. It was not long before he climaxed inside her, groaning softly. He lay down against her, chin on her shoulder, and she could feel his heart beating strongly and quickly. Lying intertwined, Amy wrapped her arms around her lover as their breathing gradually slowed.

John moved after a few minutes, lying down next to his wife. She snuggled into his side contentedly. “I love you,” she whispered into his chest.

“I love you too,” he replied, stroking her head kindly.

She lifted her head. “You are wonderful… what were you saying… breakfast…”


End file.
